


Those Nights

by stardustedknuckles



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Break fic, Canon Timeline, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Flash Fic, Missing Scene, bed sharing, established but early relationship, spoilers for 122, who in turn worries about her, yasha worries about Beau
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles
Summary: The day has gotten to Yasha more than she can fully explain, but Beau meets her halfway.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 9
Kudos: 149





	Those Nights

**Author's Note:**

> In a rare turn of events, fic with open ending was slammed shut within 90 minutes. Damn.

Yasha had been frightened before. Terrified, apprehensive, scared, startled…there was a time she had known little outside of some form of fear in her every waking moment.

Tonight, she was _unnerved_.

It must have showed in her face, or maybe it was the very act of stopping Beau on the way out after dinner - maybe, she thought, Beau just knew her. But whatever it was, it took Beau only a second of puzzled searching to pinpoint that something was wrong and then it was her pulling Yasha further aside with a grip that was rough if you didn't know her.

"What is it?"

Yasha's throat felt tight. Her mouth opened, her brain tried to give her something, but all she could manage to make was a soft and halting sound.

"Hey," said Beau, and now she looked alarmed, which on Beau just looked like intense. "A lot happened today. Take your time." Yasha nodded, swallowed. Her eyes stung, and when she'd successfully beaten the tears back it was to find Beau's grip on her forearm, tugging gently.

"Let's get you out of the common area," Beau said. "I don't want anyone seeing that shouldn't." She hesitated. "Is…do you want -"

"Yes," Yasha finally managed. "Yours."

Beau nodded, tension melting. "Got it."

They floated up, and Beau led the way through the two lead rooms and straight to the back. Yasha briefly noticed the decorative staffs she'd seen the first time through - they were all the same now, and they leaned against the wall like they were ready for use instead of hanging decoratively. She got the fleeting feeling Beau had a lot of restless nights.

Or maybe that was just her.

She could breathe a little easier now, and Beau dropped her arm when they reached the center of the room but didn't move away. "Is it me?" She asked, but she didn't sound hurt.

"Kind of," Yasha admitted. "That book. Lucien…Beau, what if he wants you? You and Caleb? What if that's how he gets people? What -" She'd begun waving her hands at some point and Beau grasped them gently, held them still.

"I know," she said. "I know. And I think…I think if that page ever makes any sense to me, I might be fucked. But it didn't." She gripped Yasha's wrists more tightly, grounding her. "He didn't."

Yasha's chest felt like it loosened just a fraction, but it was enough. She took a deep and shuddering breath, looking up to keep the tears from coming again.

"I just. After everything, with Molly…maybe he's in there, I don't know. But he was dead, and I…I miss him, but I didn't think this was even possible."

Beau nodded. "You mourned him."

"I did. And I can't…not you. Not that I could take losing Caleb either, but…" she lifted a hand, and when she touched Beau's cheek she seemed to understand and turned her head so that Yasha could see the back of her neck. The all-seeing eye stared back, green as always and no hint of change.

Yasha stroked her thumb over Beau's cheek and dropped her hand. "I really wanted that date," she confessed.

Beau smiled, a little shy. "Yeah. But not with them here."

"No, it's weird," Yasha agreed. "I just wanted to say."

Beau glanced toward the bed, then back at Yasha. No smugness, no heat, only hesitation and soft concern. "So this might be a weird offer, but…it's a big bed."

Yasha followed her gaze, breathed deep. "It's hard to sleep when it's so quiet," she admitted. "No snoring, I don't wake up with any limbs on me, it's weird."

Beau's smile had the same shy quality to it, but it was wider this time. "I can provide limbs, but I don't snore." Yasha made a face. "I don't!" Beau's mock indignation pulled a choked laugh from Yasha, and she distantly enjoyed the way Beau's tight shoulders relaxed at the sound. They were leaning on each other, she thought, propping themselves up by looking out for the other.

Yasha had only one experience to compare this to, but it had been true then and she had found it just as comforting. It felt right, like a sign they were on the right path.

They said little as they bedded down in the soft sheets in their light clothing, and Beau pulled the light cord to darken the room.

A moment of silence passed in which Yasha watched Beau with the confidence she wasn't being watched back, and then Beau spoke up with a smile in her voice. "Dope monk shit means I can feel you staring."

"Sorry," Yasha murmured, and looked up at the curtain covering the mirror instead.

Beau huffed gently into her pillow, and her hand groped hesitantly over the sheet towards Yasha. Yasha smiled to herself and met her halfway, breathing a little laugh when Beau startled at the touch before grasping more firmly.

"Dope monk shit has limits," she mumbled into her pillow, but it wasn't real defensiveness.

More silence, and when Beau's breathing began to even out and deepen, Yasha risked looking over at her again. Beau's hand was warm in hers, face slack in what was real but likely still light sleep.

Yasha shifted so that she could reach the rope to the mirror and pushed it open. Beau's shape was slightly fuzzy in the dark and the reflection, but Yasha could see the shape of that tattoo.

She fell asleep like this, watching the eye in the mirror and holding on tightly to Beau, and when she finally slipped under she didn't dream.


End file.
